


Technically Not Idiots

by UniverseMarvel



Category: Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes, Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Endgame, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Feelings, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt Tony Stark, Infinity War (Marvel Comics), Marvel Universe, Nebula & Tony Stark Friendship, Nebula (Marvel) Angst, Nebula (Marvel) Feels, Nebula (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Pain, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, idiots to lovers, marvel fandom scramble, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseMarvel/pseuds/UniverseMarvel
Summary: Nebula, Tony Stark, and the Endgame interactions we were deprived of. Served with extra feelings and a side of angst.
Relationships: Nebula & Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41
Collections: Marvel Fandom Scramble 2020





	Technically Not Idiots

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a Marvel Fandom Scramble, so it's a little different than what I'm used to. Big *Thanks* to Mags for beta-reading!
> 
> Please let me know what you think, and of course, ENJOY!

_________________________________________________  
  
"He did it."

The words rang throughout the newfound stillness on Titan, with only the echoes of shock and pain left screaming from behind.

  
The words didn't make sense. There had to be a way back, to fix this.

  
Tony stumbled down, trying to keep himself together. " _He did it_ ," the blue woman said. _No shit_. He needed more information - how could he fix this without information? Tony fixed problems. He could fix this. He had to fix this.

  
He stayed where he was on the ground, not trusting himself to respond in any way without blasting what's-her-face to smithereens.  
Not even 60 seconds ago, Tony had been holding Peter. Where Peter had been, there was only empty space. Tony subconsciously grabbed his own left wrist with his right.  
He just needed something to hold onto.

  
His brain hurt. He felt dizzy. Was there really no way for him to fix this?

  
He replayed the events that had just passed on Titan in his head. Strange said they'd had one shot; yet he didn't protest any part of Tony's plan. Surely he would have, if he hadn't planned right, right? _Right?!?_

  
He looked up, his eyes searching for confirmation despite his question never being spoken out loud. His eyes came into contact with the only remaining ones - the blue woman’s - and she stared back.

  
Why was she staring back? Was she even trying to help?

  
_He just needed more info._

  
Tony looked down, supporting his head again, as his vision blurred and his mind spiraled back into its default habit of finding a solution.  
Everything was foggy, but it didn't add up; Peter couldn't be gone, and there had to be a solution.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and he lifted his own and fired the repulser.

  
__

  
Nebula didn't expect Stark to walk into the ship, not with any good intentions anyway, and she paused what she was working on when he did. She looked up at him, not knowing what to say.

  
He'd shot her. She didn't know why, but she was okay with that. What did she know about comforting someone, anyway? It probably had something to do with that side of people… the side that told you how to interact with someone when you were not trying to kill them.

  
The side of people she’d never known.

  
Nebula didn't know how to be good or kind, and she trusted she could at least try. So much for anything she thought she knew about trust. At least he'd missed the parts of her that were still flesh.

  
Stark just stood in the doorway, not meeting her eyes. He knocked against the doorframe, and Nebula thought she recognized some emotion that might resemble guilt. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

  
Did he want to fight? Maybe he wanted to take her spacecraft. But he didn't fire again. Did he want her to leave?

  
Nebula hated how bad she was at reading non-confrontational body language. She broke everything up into fight-or-not fight; she was very skilled in breaking down the fighting category, but her life experiences had left her short on the side of anything not related to killing someone, as evidenced by her making the wrong move when she'd tried to comfort the man earlier.

  
So she waited silently. And eventually he spoke.

  
"You're fixing the ship."

  
It wasn't really a question, but she nodded. He looked around the whole ship, as if sizing it up. She still couldn't tell if he wanted a fight or not. It bothered her that she couldn't read his intentions. He was still wearing his armor, and wasn't leaving the doorway.

  
"Looks like it's in pretty rough shape," he said.

  
Nebula didn't respond. Maybe he meant he wanted to fight outside, so if he won he would still have a way off the planet.

Smart.

  
More subconsciously than not, she sized him up. He was weak from getting stabbed. That much she knew. But he had his armor. She'd seen him hold up in a fight against Thanos in that armor. It was good. But he didn't have his faceplate now, so all she had to do was be quicker than him in order to get past his weapons and she'd have him. She didn't doubt she had the upper hand.

  
But he was in the doorway, and she was exposed. Her eyes darted to a knife, lying on a shelf only two large strides away. A gun sat on the other side of that. If Stark didn't surprise her with an attack, then she could grab either weapon and make it to the other side of the wall without getting shot.

  
She turned back to Stark with confidence. She had a plan. But she just met his eyes. How long had he been looking at her? She watched his eyes make their way to the weapons, and she felt her blood run cold. Her plan was compromised. She watched his face now, waiting for the smallest sign of his decision to kill her.

  
The seconds felt like years as she waited, taking in every fraction of movement, so much so that when Stark lifted his hand, she jumped slightly.

Tony realizes he'd lost her trust when he shot her. He sees it when he gets on the ship and she stands there waiting like a cornered animal and jumps when he moves. What a failure he is. He internally laughs at the thought that he's successfully gotten an entire planet's population to be afraid of him. Well, maybe not afraid, per se, but distrusting. For some reason, there were still those on Earth that had faith in him. Or maybe he'd gotten lucky and those people were now gone with the snap. It would be much easier returning home as a failure, if the people who were left alive thought of him as one.

  
He didn't mind being a disappointment half as much as he did actually disappointing someone.

  
And now he'd totally screwed up again; he'd literally shot the planet's only other remaining life, and regardless of the fact that she was the daughter of the person Tony currently hated most - and he didn't trust her for squat - she was his only way off the planet alive.  
So he pretended to ignore Nebula's startled movement and went on.

  
"I, uh, apologize for back there." Tony couldn't bring himself to say more. He had meant to shoot her. Though he didn't really... want to.  
Nebula just watched him, her dark, beady eyes more precise and aware than a cat's. She was raised to never trust anyone to not kill or torture her at any moment. Not even family. Yet here was this... man... apologizing. She didn't know much of Stark, but he didn't seem like the apologetic type.

  
So he wanted something.

  
She didn't say anything, and his eyes wandered around the room, resting on the tools where she was working.

  
"Do you... want some help?" he asked. Nebula kept her eyes locked on him, searching for any hidden intentions. She would have to keep her distance until he revealed something more.

  
She looked around the room. "You can work on those controls; they need to be recalibrated."

  
And although she guessed from the look on his face that she'd need to recheck his work, she let him start taking the controls apart.

  
They sat and worked in silence for a few hours this way, neither of them speaking to nor trusting the other. She kept him in her line of vision, yet almost forgot about his presence until Stark appeared next to her, asking for a new assignment.

  
As it turns out, Stark had adjusted the controls perfectly. Either he'd known what he was doing all along or had figured it out, she had to hand it to him, the steering worked wonderfully and ran smoother than it had previously.

  
She had more faith in giving him more difficult tasks, and as they worked she found that her fear of dying on Titan grew smaller and smaller until it had disappeared almost entirely.

  
As their imminent departure drew closer, her trust in leaving Stark on the ship lessened. Tony didn't understand; when he watched Nebula test his job on the engine, he could have swore he witnessed the ghost of a smile.

Yet as they completed each task, she appeared to grow more and more wary of him. She never took her gun off her hip, and never talked to him more than to give instruction or feedback, despite his poor attempts at conversation.

  
Tony figured she wouldn't trust him after he'd shot her, but what else did she think he was going to do? He wondered if he should be ready to defend himself more than he was with only his bare hands, wearing only his battered clothes in defense.

  
It wasn't until they'd left Titan's atmosphere entirely that either of them could finally take a breath.

  
They were off that cursed planet. He guessed from what he’d observed that the odds of them making it back to earth were low, but he couldn't get rid of the hope in his gut. Not yet.

  
After their successful takeoff, Tony turned to Nebula, ready to make a remark on their game plan, but before he could, she turned and walked out of the room.

  
Nebula needed space, and she got it for a full hour before Stark found her again.

  
"Please tell me there's more fuel stored somewhere on this ship," he asked.

  
One of the many things on her mind; she felt his eyes scanning her face. Her stillness was somehow louder than the ship's engine, in that moment.

  
He interpreted her answer before bringing up the next dreaded topic. "I didn't see a flight plan anywhere; are we headed back to... anywhere?"

  
She actually wanted to answer this time, she really did. But there didn't seem to be any appropriate words. Yes, they were headed anywhere. But no, they weren't going to make it.

Not anywhere.

  
Stark spoke again, only quieter this time. "It was only a few hours' journey from earth. If we could get there, I can make sure you're safe to-"

  
"No."

  
Her eyes finally snapped up to his, but only for a moment before searching the wall behind him; "this ship cannot make the speed, the distance, or the jump necessary to make it to earth. Not before the fuel, the oxygen, and the food and water run out."

  
She saw him nod his head in understanding.

"How much time do you think we have?"

  
She didn't have to think, as she had already calculated it several times. "Two weeks of food. Maybe four weeks of air. But the fuel will not last half that long."

  
He thought for a moment. "Could we reroute the power in the mainframe to provide and conserve fuel energy to only the essential compartments? It would give us time.

Something to do."

  
She considered this. It was near pointless, but if time was the only thing they had left, then why not make more of it. "Have you done this to your ships before?"

  
She couldn't read his expression then, something which made her immensely uncomfortable. He clarified when he spoke, which he did more like he was confessing a secret.

"Technically, all of my experience with space visits via spaceship have all occurred today," he laughed and shrugged.

  
"Technically," she repeated, annoyed by his smile.

"Then how did you know how to operate on the ship?"

  
He shrugged again, looking past her into the speckled void; "I like to fix things; I've been called a mechanic."

  
So he was smart. She still wondered if she should fear him more than she did, although it was pointless now if they were both going to be dead soon anyway.

  
"I'll be around," he said, and patted her shoulder on the way out.

  
She froze, unmoving, and heard his footsteps fade. "Don't touch me," she whispered to the stars.

  
_

  
It wasn't until what was probably the next day when Nebula finally joined Tony. He had opened up several panels around the room before finding what he was pretty sure was the circuit-board he was looking for. He paused his work to exchange a plan for the ship's reconstruction, and then the two of them began working wordlessly on their projects.

  
They worked for hours, both knowing it was futile yet hoping against hope and processing their emotions by fixing something they had the ability to fix. In this way, they postponed the inevitable; they found a purpose, because there had to be something left to do besides die.

  
Tony wrestled with his thoughts until he was too exhausted to go on. He had no idea how long he'd been up; there wasn't even daylight to give him an idea of the time. Time didn't exist anymore.

  
When he woke up, he took a small ration of their food and sat at the table. He sat alone with his thoughts until he was made aware of her presence in the doorway. He looked up, realizing he didn't know her name.

  
"Tony," he said, "Tony Stark. I don't think I actually ever got your name."

  
She nodded. "Nebula."

  
"Nebula. Let's play a game." Tony could tell his words now had a surprising effect, as her dark eyes looked back at him, almost suspiciously.

  
"I don't know any games," she said.

  
"I'll teach you; you got any paper on this ship? And music is a must."

  
Tony didn't care about the game, but he knew they needed it. Sharing time was over. He was in charge now, as "fun" was clearly not her territory. He made his way to the ancient music contraption he'd stumbled across earlier while taking apart the ship, and got a song playing. He checked on the painful wound at his side, ensuring it wouldn't tear, before sitting again and folding the thin, shiny, silver sheet that Nebula offered as a paper substitute into the classic chip-sized triangle.

"It is my honor to be the first to introduce you to the game of paper football."

"But we do not have paper."

  
"That's okay, it'll still work the same."

  
"We do not have a ball either."

  
"Whoever named the game must have failed geometry class. The game is played sitting at a table, all you do is try to flick the triangle through the other person's fingers."

"With your feet?"

  
Tony took a patient breath, "No, with your fingers; again, the name is very misleading without context."

  
Nebula hadn't been lying when she'd said she didn't know any games, and Tony had to repeat most of the instructions several times and clarify every do and do-not of the game's process.

  
Although he thought he was clear with the rules, she jumped up and caught the triangle on the very first flick.

  
Tony wasn't expecting it-- "You don't need to do that," he pointed out, "be- _caause_ , uh, you're just holding the position."

  
He demonstrated the finger shape, and encouraged her poor attempts at flicking the piece, until she finally got it.

  
"That's a goal," he said, and she looked like she'd just done something great; "we are now one apiece."

  
"I would like to try again," she said earnestly. Tony took that as a good sign, and continued playing with her, staying just one score ahead, until they got to the match point.

  
"We're all tied up," he said encouragingly as she scored again, and watched as she got back down with her elbows on the table, to face his attempt at a winning shot. "Feel the tension?" He asked, because he could.

  
He almost missed the smile that passed her face; almost - and it was gone as quick as it had come. "It's fun," he encouraged the game, and missed his shot.

  
"Aaaand you've won."

  
At his words, she looked... well, he didn't know how she looked. She looked like she didn't know how she felt.

  
"Congratulations. Fair game." He offered his hand to shake, demonstrating the idea that the game was fair and fun and he wasn't mad at her for winning. Hopefully this would help ease the tension between them for the remainder of their living time together.

  
As she shook his hand, he realized this was not only the first game she'd ever played, but probably the first time she'd ever won anything.

  
"Did you have fun?" He asked.

  
"It was fun."

  
There. He'd taught an alien assassin how to have fun. Now he could check that off his bucket list.

  
_

  
The next day, she approached him while he was eating what he was calling breakfast. She just stood on the other side of the table, as if unsure of what she was allowed to do.

  
He smiled, "Feel free to sit, if you want. Do you want something to eat?"

  
"No," she replied, and sat across from him.  
He chewed his food, taking her in; she looked like she was trying to be casual, friendly even. A poor attempt, but he appreciated it nonetheless and broke the silence. "So, is this your ship?"

  
"Yes."

  
Tony knew they both wanted conversation, and hated the interrogative feel every effort he took to talk with her felt like. "It's very nice."

  
She just looked at him, and he couldn't tell if it was skepticism or thanks that he read on her face, so he went on.

  
"No really, it's the nicest one I've seen."  
"You've only seen two, this and the ship of Ebony Maw."

  
"I suppose you're referencing Squidward's doughnut? Because technically you're right, except that I have a collection of spacecraft parts at home from a previous encounter. The biggest collection on my planet, in fact."  
He knew everything he was saying was pointless, but he had to find a way to converse. Small-talk was his specialty.  
Well, one of them.

  
"Where I was raised, we had an entire fleet."  
Tony wanted to avoid anything that might bring up Thanos, but this was the first non-negative thing she'd said about her life! He tried to steer the conversation back to focus on just her. "Where were you raised?"

  
"I was raised by Thanos, so wherever he was."  
Tony nodded slowly, inwardly kicking himself at his failure. Yes, he wanted to know more about her, but he had to stay away from any topic surrounding Thanos.

  
"I'm from New York," he said instead, and she looked at him; he knew location names from earth had no meaning to her, but he went on anyway.

  
"I lived in California for a while; the weather there was great all the time - like Florida is supposed to be, but without the hurricanes and humidity. More recently I've been staying in New York, though."

  
"Is that where your family is?"

  
Boom, a question. Point for Tony. Except now he had to answer it.

  
He shrugged. "In a way."

  
"Who is in your family?"

  
He really didn't like this topic either, but he'd brought this on himself. Besides, she seemed actually intrigued, as if family members were an interesting topic. He took a deep breath before continuing.

  
"Technically, I don't have a family. I almost did, but then I lost it. Now there's just... people."

  
Nebula was silent for a moment, but then spoke again; "I'm sorry."

  
"Nah, don't be. It was my fault."

  
Nebula didn't say anything else, so Tony took his turn.  
"You got any more family? Or friends?"

  
Nebula shook her head. "Thanos killed my sister, Gamora. She was the only person who tolerated me."

  
Tony knew the name well by now. _Who is Gamora? Why is Gamora? Where is Gamora_.

  
He stopped his train of thought there before they led back to previous events.

  
"I had a girl- well, a girlfriend-coworker type thing. Pepper. I -- We... She was always there for me. I wish I acknowledged our relationship sooner. She was my family."

  
Tony finished his last bite, and Nebula didn't say anything while she waited for him to go on. Tony had always been bad at expressing feelings, so if he had the opportunity to share his story with someone now, he supposed he could, in his own style. She was like a journal who was going to disappear just like him, whenever their supplies ran out. So he went on.

  
"But this monster, Killian-" he spat the name out, "killed her."

  
"That doesn't sound like it was your fault."

  
Tony couldn't meet her eyes; he'd argued with himself for years trying to convince himself of that, and never could.

  
"I created Killian. Killian killed Pepper. I killed Killian. In a way, I created the very monster which turned me into the one I am today."

  
"You do not look or act like a monster."

  
"I haven't helped anyone.I saw this coming for years, and look where we ended up."

  
"But you're not a monster. Are there real monsters on earth?"

  
He furrowed his brow at the change of subject, trying to figure out what she meant.

"No, Killian was a man, but he was a monster as in an evil person."

  
"And what people do you have at New York?"

  
It took him a second to register that she was referring to his earlier comment, and made the connection; "I have my best friend, and a teammate."

  
"And the child from Titan?"

  
_Peter._

  
Peter was Tony's last hope. Somehow, Peter Parker was like Tony's last string to humanity, before fully becoming the monster (almost) everyone expected him to be. Tony was so scared he would corrupt the boy - or worse, get him killed. And, well, he had.

  
Tony couldn't answer the question; he didn't know how to answer it. He could feel the knot rising in the back of his throat and the panic ringing in his ears.

  
Nebula's next words somehow rang through the threatening chaos.

  
"Thanos made me into a monster."

  
Tony's eyes snapped back to her, and his eyes wordlessly asked for her to go on. He held his breath until she began to talk.

  
"My sister and I were raised by Thanos. He trained us to fight, and the loser of each would lose an imperfect part of herself to a mechanical replacement."

  
Nebula turned her hand in example, touched her metal cheek. "I hated my sister. Perfect Gamora; hated her until it was almost too late. Then, as soon as I had something to lose, I lost it."

  
Tony understood. He wished he didn't, but he understood all too well.

  
It was crazy how neither of them had verbally shared a feeling yet they each empathized with the other.

  
_

  
The next day, Nebula received the first gift she'd ever received: a golden streak for the exposed metallic portion of her head.

  
She didn't even know what to say. She'd never been taught how to react to this emotion.

  
_

  
The days passed.

  
Tony made his somewhat-daily trip back to the cockpit, where he'd started coming when he wanted to sit and think. He had no one to call. No one was there to receive a message, even if he did figure out a way.

  
The oxygen levels wavered, causing his ability to stay awake to decrease.

  
While reality wavered before his very eyes, Nebula was always there.

  
_  
  
Then Captain Marvel showed up.

  
Tony made it home alive.

  
_

  
Five years passed. Tony and Nebula stayed together. They became, in a way, a family. Five years transformed killers to friends; monsters to people; idiots to lovers.

  
_

  
Then one day, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Scott Lang arrived in the driveway of their lakeside cabin. And everything changed.

  
_

  
"You can save everyone."

  
Nebula had already put the pieces together. She was now able to read Tony's body language, and after the three guests had left, Tony was left fighting with himself. Which meant he had an answer but was trying to find a fault in it before he gave it. She had learned that he would rather not try than to let himself and others down, and she often wondered if he had always been like that.

  
Now she knew that he had the answer, and the fact that he had so much potential to fix something and he might say no led her to speak up.

  
Tony let the words sink in. "No, I can't," he replied. But could he? There was so much...  
Tony got up. After five years, there was no 'saving'. There was surviving and then dying. Nothing or no one to save.

  
Nebula's voice broke the silence with what she called one of Tony's Favorite Words, and Tony froze.

  
" _Technically_ , you can," she clarified.

  
He turned, almost angrily, and argued his logic. "Who would be saved? The people who survived are scarred for life. The people who were taken, how would-- how could... And if not, then I'll let them all down again. How could one person fail the entire universe not once but twice?!"

  
"Scarred is not dead. Neither is 'taken.' It would save us both."

  
Tony shook his head, apparently having already discussed this topic in his head. "We don't need saving, you and I. No, you and I are happy. This life, and doing that... that could destroy these five years -- I don't want to give this up."

  
"It would not be destroyed if we did this together." Nebula wanted Tony to know he wasn't alone.

  
His lack of response meant he didn't believe her; why did he always feel like he had to fight alone?

  
"You could save your child."

  
That caught Tony off guard.

  
"I saw the photo of you and recognized the boy from Titan."

  
Tony's voice was flat. "He wasn't my child."

  
The silence between them held so much that Nebula realized she would likely never know.

  
She quietly stressed his words:

  
"Maybe not technically."

And he figured it out.

  
_

  
"Honestly, Rhodey, she's amazing. You should know that I wouldn't pair her with you of all people if I didn't trust her with my own life."

  
Tony was talking to Colonel James Rhodes, as the nearly-insane "time heist" plan fell into place.

  
"It's your own life I'm worried about," Rhodes replied.

  
"Don't worry about me - I'll have Cap with me, and Lane... Long? What's Ant-bully's name?"

  
"Scott."

  
"Mm-hm. And Rhodey? If I could ask one favor. Try and keep her safe?"

  
Rhodes laughed, "I don't know what I could do that she couldn't, but I promise I will do my best."

  
"Your best is _the_ best."

  
Everything happened quickly from there.  
All of a sudden he was back in 2012, not missing his original suit prototypes at all as he watched his past self lumber around.

  
Then he was further back, meeting his own father. Technically, his soon-to-be-father. That was a much-needed and way-past-due goodbye.

  
And then he was back. His people were back.

And with an explosion, Thanos was back.

  
_

  
Tony saw the army looming over Steve, and knew they were done. He hadn't even said goodbye to Nebula in a way he'd be happy to die after. He wondered where she was - hopefully safe with whoever had the stones. He wished to say nothing more than that he loved her.

  
He realized, in that moment, that he'd never told her he loved her. Why not? They'd both known it. It was just their personalities.

  
Turns out their story was less 'idiots to lovers' and more along the lines of 'idiot monsters to idiot lovers.'

  
Minus the 'idiot,' technically.

  
Of course he loved her.

But he found his imminent death put on pause, as Doctor Strange returned with all of the galaxy's warriors.

  
All doubts that he'd chosen the wrong possible future path dissipated when the kid jumped down and landed in front of him.

  
 _Peter Parker._ His kid.

  
He'd done it. Tony Stark had saved the world. Tony Stark was not a monster.

  
He saved people. He saved everyone.

  
He saved Peter; and with the kid now in his arms, he realized he'd finally saved himself.

  
_

  
Nebula made it out onto the battlefield, but not in time to find Tony before he was lost within the two armies she saw scattered before her. Instead, she fought, side by side with her sister. It was like a dream, fighting with her sister - the sister she knew, from the past.

  
She sensed the change in the fight as Thanos' army began to weaken. His ship was disabled from something that had shot clear through it.

She could see a few people from her new team fighting Thanos in hand-to-hand combat - that must be where the gauntlet was; and where the gauntlet was, she knew Tony would be. Nebula started making her way towards that area.

  
She fought her way towards the center, past the creatures she was so familiar with, until she knew she was in his vicinity.

  
There was a break in the fight, like the battle itself was taking a breath, and she spotted Tony from across the field.

  
But Tony was looking at a man, who even from the distance Nebula recognized as the wizard from Titan.

  
She darted towards them as Tony again engaged with Thanos, and watched as he broke away.

  
She felt her blood run cold as she saw Thanos lift his hand, and froze entirely as she watched him snap his fingers. She instinctively held her breath and ran her eyes across the crowd, waiting to see what would happen this time.  
But the horrid screams and cries she expected were replaced by something much, much worse:

  
"I

  
Am

  
Iron Man."

  
And she watched as the only person who could make her smile sacrificed himself.

She was dimly aware of the creatures fading to dust around her as she found herself at the scene.

  
Nebula was no stranger to death, but she found the pain that came with this one new.

  
The boy from Titan was crying, talking to Tony. She approached him, and hesitantly rested her hand on his shoulder. She hadn't done... this... with anyone besides Tony. Her mind wandered back to the first time, when he'd shot her after she done the same.

  
Unlike that memory, the boy turned to her and for some reason hugged her... sort of. Another new emotion washed over her as he grasped her arms, crying into her, blinking eyes resting on Tony. Sure, she realized, he didn't process who she was, but she found her arms giving him support and offering him protection.   
  
She wanted to protect this one.

  
Someone else approached and touched her. She turned, making sure it was someone she trusted before handing the boy off to Tony's friend, Rhodey, who she'd grown to trust after their mission to Morag.

  
She knelt in front of Tony, and saw the familiar shadow of death growing on his face. But the life in his eyes called to her, and he turned to her.

  
She wished she could understand the call, and knew he could not say what it was.

  
She wrestled with the unfamiliar pain that was throbbing in her chest; she'd never felt this before, never understood how injuries could surpass the physical. She took a deep breath and shoved the pain aside. She knew she didn't have much time, and had no idea what to say in the remaining moments she had with the man in front of her.

  
The man she loved.

  
She put a hand on his shoulder and caressed his face, inching closer, careful around the injuries from his sacrifice.

  
She knew when she spoke that it was quiet enough so that those surrounding them wouldn't be able to hear. To her, however, the unfamiliar words rang out in a way she knew would haunt her.

  
"I love you."

  
She looked into his eyes as she spoke. The calling that was in Tony’s eyes ceased - not the life itself, but the longing; the recognition of being heard, and Nebula understood that she spoke for both of them.

  
She felt the moment Tony left she felt the moment when her lonely existence in the universe returned. A hand on her shoulder reminded her the feeling was wrong, however.

And she turned to look back at the new family Tony had given her.

  
This was technically Tony's family, whether he was here or not.  
_________

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I appreciate all and any feedback :)


End file.
